


Song of the Sea

by miltonicsimile



Series: Tails of the Sea [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Little Mermaid Elements, M/M, Magic, Mermaid! Seungkwan, Prince! Hansol, Reverse Fairytale, i put T bc swearing & prostitution mention?, idk yall, its p gay, mermaid au, side meanie, verkwan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-01 15:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10924659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miltonicsimile/pseuds/miltonicsimile
Summary: The boy was shirtless. Hansol quickly realized that he only wore strips of his clothing himself, revealing lean pale skin that was typically hidden from the sun. The boy’s skin in contrast was soft and round, honey coloured everywhere, his face, his arms, his stomach, his…“Where are your legs?” Hansol croaked, trying to sit up. The boy’s tawny torso faded into round iridescent, coin sized scales.~⎈~Hansol was a prince on land, but just a sailor on the water, home with the deck of a ship underfoot and a sea breeze in his hair. When his ship goes down in a storm, the arms of the ocean somehow deliver him safely ashore - in the form of a beautiful merboy. Now fueled with the desire to find the merboy again, Hansol seeks out whatever means are necessary to be reunited, even if it means giving up everything he has for a lost chance of love beneath the waves.





	1. Never Let Me Go

**Author's Note:**

> New!! Verkwan!! Because we need more!!! i'm excited!!  
> also i fully believe in chubby mer so fight me the ocean is cold ok it makes sense
> 
>  
> 
> Original prompt from tumblr so y'all know what you're in for (i don't follow exactly but u know):  
> A prince with a love of the sea undergoes a terrible shipwreck and wakes, briefly, while being rescued by a mermaid. Obsessed now, he requests the help of a land witch and gives up his “charm” - looks and speech - for a tail. Silent, disfigured, and lost beneath the waves, he discovers that though he can breathe, every breath he takes feels like fire in his chest. Still, he hopes to find the mermaid who saved him and someday earn her heart…

_And the arms of the ocean are carrying me_

_And all this devotion was rushing out of me_

_And the crashes are heaven for a sinner like me_

_But the arms of the ocean delivered me_

 

_Never Let Me Go - Florence + the machine_

 

~⎈~

 


	2. Into the Arms of the Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Molae - 모래 - sand  
> Hangu - 항구- harbour

The song of the sea had always sung in Hansol’s heart. It was a part of him and he too had always been a part of it. Nineteen years, most spent on the water, was how long it took for Hansol to have it sung aloud to him. After that, his heart belonged at the bottom of the sea.

~⎈~

 

The warm sun kissed the planes of Hansol’s face and his dark hair danced wildly in the wind as he stood on deck. He leaned against the familiar wooden railing. It was worn but strong, just like the rest of the ship. _King’s Son_ had been the greatest gift his father could have given him, commissioned on Hansol’s name day, and completed four years later.

Fifteen years had passed but he could remember the day it had been presented to him. He had waddled stiffly in his formal dress between his father and mother, his nurse’s words to _“be good_ ” echoing in his mind. He hadn’t known exactly why they had come to the harbourfront, but he liked the excitement of them. The island nation of Molae relied on the sea for business of every form, it’s main industry being fishing and trade. The harbour of its capital city, _Hangu_ , was the busiest of them all.

People, unlike any Hansol, had seen before filled the seaside. They dressed in cloth of every colour and style, their voices calling out to each other in strange tongues. The harbourfront was loud but in the best possible way. The noise excited him, and he had wanted to join in, add his voice and be a part of it.

The smells too had enthralled him, the salt of the water and reek of fish, but also the sweetness from baking bread, and richness of spices from other lands. Hansol had been kept away from it all though, a line of armed guards separating him from the rest of the harbourfront brimming with the life he had craved, even then.

When Hansol had first seen the ship, his eyes had widened. At four years old, even as a prince, he had never seen anything quite so big, so grand, so _magnificent_.

“Happy birthday, Hansol.” His father had beamed down at him proudly. He had then turned to the crowd. “I present this ship, _King’s Son_ , to my own son, Prince Hansol. May it carry him safely, may it carry him swiftly.”

The crowd had echoed the King in a joyful chorus. “May it carry him safely; may it carry him swiftly.”

As the crowded harbourfront roared with celebratory cheers, Hansol had just stood there, looking up at the ship, _his_ ship, in utter amazement. That was the day his fate had been sealed, for his love of the sea to become his destiny.

The ship had led to countless hours studying the stars, learning various navigational instruments, and the ways of trade. To nurturing Hansol’s love into something deeper - with days, weeks, and eventually, months, spent out at sea navigating and exploring. The ship allowed Hansol’s natural affinity for the sea to be turned into something great, something beyond what he could ever have imagined. _King’s Son_ had been the key to everything Hansol could have wanted from life, a purpose, a passion, but also an escape and freedom from the confines of royal propriety. On the sea he wasn’t a prince, he was just Hansol. And he was home.

He watched as Hangu grew smaller and smaller. The red stone of the King’s Keep atop of citadel overlooking both the city and the sea was fading into just a speck on the horizon, and Hansol grinned at the sight. Free again. For as grateful as he was for his father’s gift, he couldn’t help but be reminded that he too, belonged to the king.

“Letting us do all the hard work?”

Hansol turned and shot Seungcheol a grin. “I helped raise the sails, I set our course, I _planned_ this voyage,” He answered indigently. “And you’re trying to tell me about hard work?”

Seungcheol leaned against the railing next to him, looping thick rope lazily over his strong tanned arm. “Anything you say, _your highness_.”

“Fuck off, Cheol.” Hansol bumped his shoulder into his friend’s, who stood firm. “Don’t even start with that shit.”

“You’ve got a dirty mouth on you.” Seungcheol chuckled, a dimple appearing on his handsome face. It was a good face, an honest one that Hansol always sought for in the crowded foreign ports. “Imagine your royal father hearing you talk like that.”

“I’ve got a sailor’s mouth,” Hansol replied with a smirk, the last sights of Hangu disappearing on the blue horizon. “And don’t you fucking forget it.”

“I doubt you’d let me,” Seungcheol mused, pushing off the side of the ship and heading for the helm, leaving Hansol to follow with a lazy smile. “It matters not though,” Seungcheol continued, glancing over at him. “It was you who was born the first and only son of their royal highnesses the king and queen of Molae. I was born the son of a fisherman and the toughest fish stall haggler that Hangu’s ever seen.”

Hansol laughed, nodding at some of the other crew as they made their way across the ship. “Prince or not, I’m still a fucking sailor.”

“Aye,” Seungcheol agreed, stopping to tie the thick rope he had been carrying to the end of another piece that hung down the side of the mast. “And captain of this ship. But it can’t be that different? Being the king is like being the captain of a ship, in charge of everyone’s well being and pointing us all in the right direction.”

Hansol’s mother often told him he had the temperament for a successful ruler, calm, hard to get worked up, a good listener, a problem solver. He always told her he had the temperament of a good sailor, to be calm was to have a clear mind, something that was beyond valuable when on board a ship. And Hansol would choose a ship over a throne any day.

“Not quite, Cheol.” He shook his head with a sigh. “One is stuck behind stone walls and royal propriety; the other is as free as a gull on the wind to find and make their own way in the world. The sea is the only home I’ll ever need.”

“As you say, _your highness_.” Seungcheol laughed, turning and racing up the worn wooden steps to the upper deck. Hansol followed.

Mingyu stood behind the great wheel, tall and focused, his handsome features drawn in thought.

“How does he fair?” Hansol asked of the ship as they approached. It was a rare thing, having a _he_ for a ship. The _King’s Son_ was the only vessel that Hansol knew that was, his father set it apart for greatness.

Mingyu broke from his stoic demeanour with a familiar wide goofy smile. “Well,” he began. “Sunny day, strong winds. A perfect day for sailing.”

“That it is.” Hansol agreed, clapping Mingyu’s broad back. They had made quick, smooth progress across the cobalt waters. They were making good time into the first segment of their several week's journey.

Seungcheol took out his engraved and shining brass spyglass from his belt, an instrument much too fine for a typical sailor. It had been a gift from Hansol on his twenty-first name day, and it had become Seungcheol’s most prized possession. He had scoffed at the finery, shook his head, and almost refused it. But eventually, he had accepted the gift with a promise to Hansol that he would receive an equally great gift on his twenty-first name day. Mingyu had joked that it would take him the three years to save up enough coin to be able to afford one.

“I was almost sure Wonwoo would convince you to stay on land.” Seungcheol teased, looking through the spyglass.

Mingyu shook his head, his sun-bleached hair catching in the wind. “No, he couldn’t wait to get rid of me. Said I belonged out here, that he couldn’t get me to stay if he tried.”

Hansol let out a sharp laugh and Seungcheol snorted. “Maybe he actually wanted to get some work down without you hovering about.”

Mingyu’s tan face tinged pink but the dopey smile remained as he shrugged. “Maybe. It’s not my fault I want to spend all my time ashore with him when we go months without seeing each other.”

“He’ll make a land dweller of you yet,” Seungcheol teased, pocketing his spyglass once again. “He’s made an honest man of you somehow, which was a feat in itself.”

They all laughed, but Hansol doubted even Wonwoo was capable of keeping Mingyu ashore. Still, he saw the way Mingyu looked at Wonwoo. Hansol knew very well who had done the chasing, had pined, who loved blindly. A surprise for anyone who had known Mingyu, to go from spending his coin drinking and tumbling into a different bed each night ashore, to hunting down rare books when they docked in foreign ports to bring back home to a quiet bespectacled man.

“We have an understanding,” Mingyu said eventually, running a hand through his hair. Hansol was _quite_ sure they did.

He headed to the cabin, Seungcheol in tow. They spent the next few hours going over their planned journey, up the coast to pick up cargo, then across the sea to trade. It was a familiar route on familiar waters, but Hansol liked to chart their course and check as they went.

He grabbed his trusted marine sextant, a gift from his younger sister, and gestured for Seungcheol to follow him back out to the deck. When Hansol stepped out, his hair was shot back off his forehead harshly, the weather having taken a turn.

“The sky’s looking dark,” Seungcheol observed, voice low. “And the winds picking up, cold as sin and wrong as magic.”

Hansol nodded. He looked at the rapidly changing sky and the water beneath it. Dark and wild, this side of the sea was something Hansol too had grown to know over the years. Hansol did more than swear like a sailor, he was one, a true seaman at heart. He had the intuition, it was better than experience, though it didn’t hurt he had that too.

“There’s no magic here,” Hansol said grimly, setting the sextant to the side. “just the same sea, the very same waters that blessed us with smooth sailing.”

He never forgot how the sea was fluid in every sense of the word. One moment calm, glass-like still waters, safe. The next, you’re not. The sea was no man, it could kill without it being right or wrong, it had no will, but Hansol over the years had seen how it could take yours.

Skies like this, with clouds the colour of iron forming quicker than Hansol’s crew could move; and waters, no longer cerulean, but dark and demanding tribute to be paid _were dangerous_.

Seungcheol cast him a dark look, face as cast over as the sky above. “There’s a certain magic in the sea, every sailor knows that - learns to respect that, Hansol.”

“Yes,” He agreed solemnly, “but this storm isn’t magic. This is simply nature.”

Hansol looked at the murky waters, growing wilder with each passing second. He wanted what all sailors wanted in bad weather, with plenty of sea room, space from shore. This was not something they were rich in, only a few hours of sailing between them and Hangu. They had charted their course closer to the coastline, and Hansol hoped the choice wouldn’t be their demise. He didn’t want to want to even consider the ability of a storm to carry vessels across waters impossible distances.

 _King’s Son_ groaned as the white caps crashed into its side and Hansol sprung into action. He headed for the bridge. This was his ship, his crew, _he_ needed to be at the helm. “Lower the mainsail!”

Seungcheol’s voice boomed behind him as he moved to the back of the ship, repeating the orders for the rest of the crew. “Lower the mainsail, you dogs!”

Hansol took the stairs two at a time, slipping on the final step, heavy wet drops beginning to fall from above. Mingyu stood behind the wheel, face dark and muscles straining as he fought the rudder. There was not fighting the sea like this, you simply had to learn to dance to its new rhythm.

Hansol had sailed through many storms, but something felt darker, more ominous about this. He cursed Seungcheol’s words, bringing magic into this. His friend had always been a bit too superstitious, more so than other sailors. He avoided black cats on the street like the plague, cursing Hansol for once walking beneath a ladder. Seungcheol believed in magic as much as he hated it.

Hansol’s mind raced, trying to read the waters. Once they managed to lower the mainsails and remove pressure from the back of the ship and steady themselves, no longer being slung sideways with the waves, the crew would have to move quickly to furl the next two courses. The other sails, the fore and the jib, would be left up to keep them moving with some control. It was dangerous work in these conditions, Hansol had done it enough times himself, never shying away from what needed to be done. The sails needed to be protected, winds and waves could rip the heavy canvas as though it was parchment, leaving them with no potential for momentum and at the utter mercy of the sea.

A dark towering wave of water slammed into the ship as Hansol reached for the wheel. “Secure yourselves!” He bellowed.

The crew didn’t need to be told twice, quickly scrambling to their feet, winding the thick heavy rope of the ship around their waists. The first rule of any storm was that the ship was sturdier than the crew. But even the strongest ships sank.

Hansol let go of the wheel, let it spin and hold, then grabbed it again, knuckles turning white with the effort. The best plan of action was to sail at an angle with the wind, as close to as possible to the oncoming waves. They were at a disadvantage, the most dangerous ships during the storm were empty ones. _King’s Son_ lacked ballast, any stabilizing weight below deck.

Another tall wave crashed against the ship, drenching Hansol, squeezing any warmth from the earlier sun from his body. He wanted to laugh at his father’s insistence of the heavier, stronger storm sails as the icy rain plastered his hair to his face. While a luxury most ships couldn’t afford, they were also useless in situations like this. They were for storms you see creeping towards you, hours away -  because that’s how long they took the crew to put up, _hours_.

“Hold tight!” Hansol called, though he doubted if anyone heard above the roar of the wind and the crashing of the waves. His voice, if they survived this ordeal, would surely be hoarse tomorrow.

Hansol’s blood turned to ice as two massive waves rose over either side of the ship. _No, no, no_! Hansol could feel the wind disappearing as the waves blocked it, effectively cutting them from their only source of energy. Hansol was powerless. He looked around the ship, rain beating down hard against the crew who clung to it.

He locked eyes with Seungcheol who held onto the mast. He understood. They might have enough momentum to carry them forward, high enough to reach the wind again….

“ _Hansol_!” Seungcheol hollered as darkness descended onto them, the sea consuming the _King’s Son_.

~⎈~


	3. Crashes Are Heaven For A Sinner Like Me

Hansol woke with water burning in his lungs. He coughed, spurting it, and the rest of the contents of his stomach onto the rocks next to him. The sky was dark, slowly clearing, but still a rich denim above him. Shafts of bright sunlight broke through between the clouds, illuminating sections of the calming water like light escaping the crack of a closing door. The storm had passed.

He was alive. How was he alive?

The cold of the water had wrapped its fingers around his bones, and Hansol began to shake as a strong gust of wind blew over him. He had survived the wreck somehow, but Hansol knew the strength of the cold and understood how it could take yours. He wouldn’t die by drowning, but washed up on the rocks, waiting until the cold slowed his heart. What an irony, for the prince who loved the sea.

A seagull cried out, riding the breeze, it’s white feathers stark and popping against the slate sky, lightening with each passing minute. _A gull_. He had to be close to shore, to land. There was a chance. Not swimming, his muscles ached, and his lungs burned too much for that, but maybe a fishing boat would find him.

He coughed again, more saltwater spewing out. A soft tawny hand reached out and gently pushed Hansol’s wet dark hair from his forehead. Surprised, he turned his head and found a pretty red-haired boy looking down at him.

The boy was shirtless. Hansol quickly realized that he only wore strips of his clothing himself, revealing lean pale skin that was typically hidden from the sun. The boy’s skin, in contrast, was soft and round, honey coloured everywhere, his face, his arms, his stomach, his…

“Where are your legs?” Hansol croaked, trying to sit up, the palms of his hands cut into the hard rock beneath him. The boy’s tawny torso faded into round iridescent, coin-sized scales.

Hansol couldn’t believe his eyes. Maybe he _was_ dead. He had always known the sea would claim him for one its own eventually.

He reached a hand out, and the boy, the _mer_ , let him. The scales were cold, and sharp on the edges, which somehow surprised Hansol despite having learnt that lesson on the beach as a child. But they were beautiful, unlike any scales Hansol had ever seen more. _He_ was beautiful, this creature in front of him. He had saved Hansol, there was no other explanation. Hansol didn’t know how, or why, but thanked the sea for sending him.

“Thank you.” He whispered, eyes heavy. His head pounded. His lungs burned. “ _Thank you._ ”

The merboy smiled down at him, his dark eyes filled with a look of compassion that Hansol had never seen before. It warmed him from the inside out, his shivering slowing, his breathing becoming evener. He briefly wondered if it was simply because as a prince he had lived such a privileged life and he had never had cause for being on the receiving end of such a look - or if it was because humans simply weren’t capable of it.

Hansol struggled to fight the heaviness of his eyes, the physical exhaustion rolling through him like the waves on the rocks around them. He didn’t want to miss a second of this wonderful sight in front of him, this miracle sent by the sea to save him.

The merboy slowly stroked Hansol’s cheek, the action tender but cautious. Then he quietly began to sing.

It was light, pure, and unlike anything, Hansol had ever heard before. His voice blended with the sound of the waves lapping against the rocks softly like it too was the water. His singing became stronger, richer, and somehow Hansol realized knew the song, and knew it well. It was the song of the waves crashing against rocky coastline with a roar, the steady rhythm of water as it rolled in capped with white, and the soft kissing of the sea as it crept onto sand beaches. As Hansol’s vision faded to black, he wondered how he had gone so long without hearing the song of the sea sung quite like this.

~⎈~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short but lots more to come! don't forget to comment :)


	4. Price He Pays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this is just establishing hansol im sorry

“I found him!” The familiar sound of Seungcheol’s booming voice woke Hansol with a start. He was cold, every muscle in his body ached, and his head throbbed.

“Hansol!” Seungcheol gasped, knees pressing into the wet sand next to him. “Are you all right? How badly are you hurt? How the _hell_ are you alive?”

Hansol looked up with his friend and did his best attempt at a smile, his lips cracking. The memory of the mer filled his mind. The beautiful boy with the honey skin and voice unlike any he had ever heard before. He wanted to tell Seungcheol everything. But Hansol knew it would be wasted breath.

“Sea spat me back out. Don’t worry though, she’ll take me when it’s my time.”

Seungcheol let out a laugh of disbelief. “Come on my prince,” he said fondly, picking up Hansol easily as if he was a child and not a man grown. “You’ve washed up on shore not too far from Gull’s Town, only half a day’s ride back to your bed in the King’s Keep.”

“Fuck the King’s Keep.” Hansol groaned as Seungcheol’s hands dug into his tender skin. “The _King’s Son_ …”

Seungcheol shook his head as they crossed from the sandy beach up onto the rocky shoreline. Cries of relief, joy, were fast approaching, carried by the wind.

“The _King’s Son_ had a mighty run, but he’s gone.”

The words sent a chill through Hansol.

~⎈~

When Hansol returned to the Hangu he was greeted by crowded streets calling his name, and barefoot children tossing chains of flowers at him as he rode past.

The city hummed with energy, that of celebration mostly. The news of the crown prince’s shipwreck had reached them only days before, an almost palpable, unspoken fear and uncertainty had covered the Molae’s capital like a heavy fog. Though often absent, Hansol was adored among his father’s people, but still not quite a much as his younger sister. He was a prince they wanted, who could relate to them, understood the struggles that came with loving and working with the sea.

A woman, child on her hip, had called from her window as she hung clothes out on the line. “Sea not done with you?”

“Not yet!” Hansol had responded with a wide grin. These were his people. They understood.

His body ached still, but he rode high ahorse sporting a diplomatic smile and wave. He was comfortable enough riding, but he would take a ship to a horse any day.

Behind them came a carriage carrying some of the other survivors of the wreck who were worse for wear. They had had their injuries seen to and rested for two days under the charity of Gull’s Town. The small fishing village had been more than eager to shelter the prince and his crew, those who had survived the shipwreck.

Mingyu had a broken arm and was covered in bruises, but they all were. Seungcheol had a nasty gash, now bandaged across his forehead. Some of the other crew had not been so lucky, the sea claiming them as its own. Hansol felt their loss as heavy as that of his beloved ship. They were more than just sailors, they were his friends. A bond had been formed sailing, the sea tying them together in brotherhood. Now many of them were gone, meeting the same fate as countless sailors before them.

Despite the chaos of it all, one sole being filled Hansol’s mind: the merboy. Hansol needed to find him again. Since waking up washed ashore, surely brought there under the care of the merboy, Hansol had thought of nothing else. There was the obvious amazement of a creature of sailor’s drinking stories and children’s fairy tales being flesh and blood, but there was something more. Hansol could feel it in his bones, in his _heart_ , that the merboy had saved him for a reason. That his beloved sea, had shown favour on him, sent its creature to save Hansol, because he too belonged to it somehow.

He had always known that he had a special relationship with the sea. It came easier to him, being able to read the waters and the sky, knowing it more intimately somehow. Numerous times strangers in distant ports had approached him and told him as much, that there was a bit more of the sea in him than other sailors.

Seungcheol always shook his head, whispering a string of curses, uttering of unnatural knowledge. _Magic_. Hansol had just nodded at the strangers each time it happened, there was no doubt that there was a higher power at play, but it wasn’t something that he feared. There was no danger in listening to what the earth told you if you bothered to listen. Hansol himself felt he had the sea show him things, guide him in inexplicable ways. When he had suggested his theory of magic to Seungcheol he had scrunched up his nose and downed the liquor in his flask.

“There’s nothing magic about being a good sailor, Hansol.” Seungcheol had argued. “You grew up by the sea, you’ve been sailing since you were a child. It’s years of hard work and a love of doing it, not magic.”

Hansol had shrugged in reply, not finding a point in words when it came to his friend and magic. Seungcheol didn’t deny the existence of magic but refused to consider to the possibility of his best friend being involved with it in any way. Magic to Seungcheol was something as evil as it was real and to be avoided at all costs.

Still, the merboy had saved him. Hansol had to believe it meant something. What exactly, he didn’t know. He somehow needed to find the beautiful merboy to find out.

“They love you,” Seungcheol noted, riding up beside Hansol as they approached the citadel, the centre of the city, and the royal family’s home. The crowd was even thicker here, the cheers a joyous welcoming chorus.

Hansol smiled, waving as he passed a group of young girls his sister’s age calling his name. “They love the sea.”

“You are not the sea.”

“Am I not?” Hansol asked. “I have the sea in my blood, salt water pumps through my heart. My home isn’t here, it’s out there.” He gestured widely ahead of them, where the sea surrounded the city on three sides. “Though, perhaps I’m not the sea, not yet.”

“What do you mean by that?” Seungcheol furrowed his dark brows, moving the fresh bandage with the action, casting Hansol a suspicious look.

Hansol looked at his friend, studied his sun-darkened skin, his familiar laughing eyes. “Tell me what you know about the mer.”

~⎈~

He had been received in the King’s Hall. His parents sat upon the dais, heads high as he had made his way down the long room.

His sister Sofia stood at the bottom of the carved stone stairs. She stood straight and tall for her fifteen years, an air of elegance and control about her. She was the very image of the perfect princess, her dark hair in an elaborate braid woven with white shells hanging down her back. She allowed a small relieved smile to show as he approached.

The King’s Hall was one of the oldest buildings in Hangu, sitting directly at the centre of the city, and the citadel itself. At the highest point of the city, it overlooked everything the king ruled. Tall red stone walls were covered with colourful cloth of Molae’s flag, a sky of white over a sea of blue. Massive chandeliers hung heavy from strong chains, laden with candles for evening affairs. People filled the hall, clearing a path down the centre for Hansol. There was hushed whispering at his appearance in court, a rare thing. Hansol spotted familiar faces among the throngs of people and glanced up at the gallery surrounding the hall where more people listened and watched still.

When he reached the end of the hall, Hansol kneeled. “Father, mother.” He began, voice loud and clear for all to hear. It had been hoarse after the shipwreck between the shouting before going down, and the intake then upheaval of so much seawater. Countless cups of tea had since soothed it. “I have returned sooner than expected. The poor weather put a halt on the voyage.”

“Your mission remains incomplete?” His father asked, voice ringing out throughout the hall. Hansol knew better than to be hurt or offended at this being the first question out of his father’s mouth. This was the way of court, a careful choice of words, sticking to the formalities, despite the hall humming with questions.

 “For now.” Hansol nodded. He could feel the eyes of the entire court on him, the returned son, the heir, not lost to the sea this time, not yet.

His father furrowed his thick brows, index finger tapping the elaborately carved wood of his throne. “The King’s Son is gone?”

“Yes,” Hansol said, the words heavy and duplicitous, filled the long hall.

Sofia gave him a courtly smile, controlled for everyone to see, but Hansol knew it meant much more. “We are glad to have you home safely, brother. The kingdom rejoices in the news of your good health. The news of your shipwreck scared us all.”

“Sister,” He replied, looking her in the eye. They were his mirrored back at him, intelligent and kind. “You should have never doubted.”

~⎈~

“I never doubted you,” Sofia said over her cup of wine later that night. They were in her solar, dismissed after a long meal filled with their parents by more stiff questions. Now that Hansol’s well being had been established they were much more concerned about his future. It seemed to them that his time on the sea had been a youthful adventure, one that had come to a dramatic close.

Hansol shifted on the floor, sore even under the thick cushion. “Not even for a moment?”

“No,” Sofia replied, shaking her head, her heavy dark braid swaying out of Hansol’s hands. “Others did. Mother and father did, I know. Whispers of change of succession and political upheaval. I didn’t even bother with any of it though, I knew you were coming home. You always do.”

Hansol smiled at his sister’s words, his thin long-calloused fingers working carefully to unwind her elaborate braid. “You say that now, Sof. One day I might not.” He said softly as he gently pulled the small white shells from her long hair, gathering them in a small pile next to him.

Hansol had collected them himself, walked the shore of the south of Hangu, beachcombing. Even as a child he had always collected things from the sea, shells, coral, fossils in stone. He liked having pieces of the sea with him, it made him feel like he could hold a small part of it in his hands even when he was away.

“You always say that,” Sofia sighed, her small shoulders sagging as she let out the breath. She looked so small like this, sitting in front of him on the floor as he unwound her hair. Though, not as small as she once had. Hansol could remember doing this, sitting, or standing behind his sister, unbraiding her hair and brushing it for as long as he could remember having a sister. They had never been particularly close, Hansol always at sea and Sofia always in lessons, having more of a brain for politics than he ever had. But they shared this small thing, Hansol taking care of his younger sister in the only way he really knew how.

“Maybe because it’s true,” Hansol replied, combing his long fingers through her dark thick hair, undoing the few remaining woven pieces. “Maybe one day my home will be elsewhere, and coming here won’t be coming home, it’ll just be visiting you.”

Sofia turned to look back at him, her thick straight brows scrunched together. It was a look of disapproval that would send anyone besides him scurrying. “Don’t say that, Hansol.” She scolded. “You’re the crown prince, you’re going to be king someday. Maybe mother and father are right, it’s time for you to bottle your time on the King’s Son and put it on a shelf. You’re no longer a boy, you’re the heir to Molae and my older brother. You have responsibilities.”

Hansol scoffed. “Like what?”

“Like marriage for one thing,” Sofia offered, turning around completely to face him on her cushion. “A smart marriage match could really be beneficial to the kingdom.”

“I don’t want to get married,” Hansol said with a small laugh. The suggestion wasn’t anything new to him. He had grown up always aware that his parent’s own marriage was one of political convenience, love and respect coming after. He had always assumed he too would eventually have to face the same fate, as heir to Molae, but it had always just seemed so far off.

Sofia rolled her round eyes at him. “What about going court for once? Or attending council meetings? Father lets me shadow him only because you’re always gone off on some wild journey. You need to know so many things, things that only he can teach you.”

“You seem to enjoy it so much though,” Hansol shrugged lightly. “You’re good at it too. I’ve heard nothing but praise for your genius political ability, and at only fifteen.”

Sofia grabbed a pillow next to her on the floor and hit him on the shoulder. “It’s like you don’t even _want_ to be king.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

Sofia paused, narrowing her eyes. “I’m being serious.”

Hansol sighed, tired, and defeated. “So am I.”

“What do you want then, Hansol?” She asked, watching him.

Hansol thought of the merboy looking down at him, singing. “I don’t want a life sitting in an old chair, listening to angry people, and trying to please them. I don’t want to be stuck at a desk reading policy and signing my life away, one page at a time.” He picked up one of the white shells from Sofia’s hair, turning it between his fingers. “I want whatever life the sea can offer. I want to be with it, learn it’s secrets and tell it mine.”

Sofia took another sip from her cup. “Can’t you have it both? Have a love of the sea and be a prince, a king?”

“I don’t know,” Hansol said. “I don’t think so.”

~⎈~


	5. Something to Hold in the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i'd rather post a bunch of shorter chapters often than one super long one every few weeks idk???

Hansol was worn ragged. Something that was to be expected from someone who had survived a shipwreck against impossible odds. His body was bruised, and his head still was home to a faint but constant pounding. In someone else it may have led to a mistrust, a fear, even a hatred of the sea - but not Hansol.

He rose from his lavender-scented bath, leaving a wet trail on the marble floor behind him as he made his way to his open balcony doors. His living quarters were on the fifth floor of an eastern tower of the King’s Keep, rising him even more on the already tall hill at the centre of the city. Hansol could see the entire city from his vantage point, the different district rings leading up from the seaside which surrounded all but one side of Hangu.

The moon hung full and heavy in the sky, reflecting perfect and round on the dark water far beyond. Hansol stood there, inhaling the fresh familiar smell of breeze blowing in off the sea. He was out there somewhere, the merboy. Hansol had to find him. Wonder and questions filled his mind, the incessant pressure from his family, his kingdom, pushed aside for the merboy.

Hansol dressed as quickly as he could, his sore muscles screaming in protest. A warm bath and herbs could only sooth so much, he would heal with time.

The song that the mer had sung played over and over in his head as he laced his boots. He didn’t even know if he wanted to go back to the way his life had been before - sailing and great; but above the water - now that he had seen and _heard_ the beauty beneath it. He didn’t know what it all meant, but he wanted to find out.

The library tower was on the other side of the King’s Keep. Hansol made his way through the tall familiar corridors, somehow feeling like a thief in his own home. Not that he had ever spent much time here. He had grown up with the deck of a ship underfoot and had been kissed each night by the stars, a comfort more familiar than his own parents. It was Sofia who truly knew the secrets of the King’s Keep, having spent her time exploring and finding the ancient tunnels and hidden rooms. She had shown Hansol a few passages over the years, but he knew better than to think she had shared him them all.

Hansol nodded to the sentries would who were making their nightly rounds. He shuffled past their wide eyes and quick bows upon recognition, one leaving after a few quick whispers. Off to report to his father he assumed, of course not directly, but his father would know of his late-night escapade he was sure. Once again, Hansol was reminded that this was all his father’s after all. This was the King’s Keep, and he too, was just the King’s son even with the ship being no more.

Hansol longed to be out at sea again.

After fighting his muscles and his better judgement up the winding stairs to the library tower, Hansol found that it was not empty. Hunched over a massive book, surrounded by low burning candles sitting in their own wax, was Wonwoo.

Hansol cleared his throat as he approached, not wanting to intrude or startle him. “Still stuck with your nose in a book?” He asked, coming around the other side of the table, meeting Wonwoo’s surprised face.

“Still sneaking around at night, your highness?” Wonwoo countered, pushing his round glasses up the bridge of his sharp nose. His deep voice was soft, but slightly hoarse, as if from misuse. It made Hansol wonder how long Wonwoo had been up in this tower reading.

“You know me.” Hansol shrugged, the corners of mouth tugging up. Wonwoo did, had for years. He had participated in some of the sneaking around on occasion, leaving the safety of the King’s Keep for an unguarded night of fun and debauchery. Though Hansol had been captain on the King’s Son, just another sailor when abroad, when he anchored in Hangu he was a prince. The king expected Hansol to act like one, if he went out he needed to be dressed as one, be escorted by guards, for formalities sake if nothing else. Hansol hated it. He also tended to generally ignore it.

“You know Mingyu’s back? A broken arm, but it’ll heal in a few weeks.” Hansol said.

A look of relief, then concern passed over his face before Wonwoo glanced back down to his book. His long fingers carefully ran across the aged paper as he searched for the right words.

“When I heard of the wreck, that the King’s Son had sunk…” he paused, looking back up at Hansol with his dark eyes. “I couldn’t believe it, none of us could. It seemed impossible. I never thought to worry for Mingyu when he goes with you to sea. Somehow after so long it, _you_ , had become some sort of safe unsinkable living legend on our waters.”

Hansol had heard similar things whispered only to hush when he passed. None had come out and blatantly said it to him until now. He could always rely Wonwoo for being candid. “No ship is unsinkable.”

“I didn’t even want to consider Mingyu…” Wonwoo said, voice dropping. Hansol didn’t need for him to continue to understand everything that had crossed Wonwoo’s mind, all the terrible possibilities went unspoken. “But no, I haven’t seen him yet. I didn’t know you had returned. I’ve been trying to find an old peasant remedy for burning fever. There’s been a few outbreaks lately and I’ve been trying to work off word of mouth but just can’t get it right.”

“You should go see him.”

Wonwoo nodded, a small smile appearing. “Yes. Tomorrow. I’m glad you’re safe, that Mingyu’s safe.” He paused and looked at Hansol anew, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. “Why are you here at such an hour, your highness? If I dare ask?”

“Actually, you may be able help me out.” Hansol glanced around at the endless shelves of books, many centuries old, some written in dead tongues. “What do you know about the mer, Wonwoo?”

“More than the typical seaside dweller, I suppose.” Wonwoo said giving him a curious look. He pushed his chair back and grabbed a fresh candle, holding its cotton wick into the flame of a dying one. “There is quite an extensive collection of books on the creatures here, I’ve browsed and gotten my taste of it over the years.”

There was almost no need for the candle, as moonlight flooded in through the massive windows, curtains pulled back. As Hansol followed Wonwoo past row after row of books, and was suddenly filled with gratitude for finding his old friend here. Hansol had spent his days learning languages, sailing, astronomy; not much time was left for legends and myths, or the creatures of them. He had no idea where to begin such a search.

“Here.” Wonwoo finally said stopping in front of a particularly old section of the library. The spines of some of the books crumbled at the edges.  Hansol could hardly make of the titles and names written on them, so faded over time. There were more than he would have imagined; _The Sea and Its Creatures by Robb M. Marlowe_ , _The Secrets Below Our Water by Jeon Jaesun_ , _Mer: An Anthology of Literature_.

“Have you read all of these?” He asked in awe.

Wonwoo shook his head, pulling the faded red leather-bound book from the shelf. “Of course not. I looked at some when I was younger, had the time to do that. I’ve been too focused on reading all the medical texts and herbology books lately, there is so much useful knowledge hidden in this library.” He handled the book with care, turning the pages as if they could turn into the dust that covered it. “Marlowe is a good place to start though, he covers the basics of all the mythical marine creatures,” Wonwoo paused, glancing at Hansol over his spectacles. “Because that’s what they are, _mythical_.”

They locked eyes. And Hansol knew it was questioned, but one he would rather not answer, not yet.

“What does it say about the mer?” Hansol asked, leaning over Wonwoo’s sharp shoulder.

Wonwoo cleared his throat before beginning to read from the text. “Mer, most commonly known as mermaids, though his term applies to only the female sex of the species, are creatures with the tail of a fish and the upper body of a human.” Wonwoo read, low voice steady and practiced. “They appear globally, though vary to adapt to the local climate.”

“What does that mean?” Hansol asked, rereading the passage.

Wonwoo pointed to the detailed sketches on the page. “It means that mer in arctic regions have many layers of fat to protect themselves from the cold. Mer from more tropical locale are leaner, and have darker skin to protect from the sun.”

Hansol nodded, thinking of the merboy he had seen. He had a soft tan body, their climate moderate. “That makes sense.”

Wonwoo returned to reading. “They play important roles in many cultures worldwide, and thus their meaning varies. Some believe a sighting of the mer, typically shy creatures are bad omens, foretelling disasters such as storms or shipwrecks. One thing is constant of the creatures, they are shy and avoid humans at all costs.”

“Why would a mer willingly help a human?” Hansol wondered, thinking aloud. From what the book said, there was no logical explanation for what had happened. This information, it just fueled Hansol’s need for answers, and desire to find the merboy again. “Does it say anything about that?”

“Hmm…” Wonwoo hummed, thumbing through the pages carefully. “No, nothing.” He looked at Hansol, dark eyes searching. “Have you...seen one?”

Hansol debated lying. Would it make him seem crazy? He had known Wonwoo for years. His mother had been a maid here in the King’s Keep. Hansol had found Wonwoo reading in the stables when they were young, nose in a book even back then. He had taken the other boy under his wing, showed him the library when realizing that was what Wonwoo truly loved, learning, knowledge. After all these years Hansol considered him a friend. It had been he who suggested Wonwoo’s name to his father when he began his hunt for a new apprentice for the court physician. He trusted Wonwoo, but _this,_ it was something Hansol found himself hesitating over.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

Wonwoo licked his lips, glancing down at the pages of sketches and words. The book talked about the creatures as fact, not myth, not legend. That had to place some sway upon him, Hansol hoped.

“Yes.” Wonwoo replied eventually. “But only because it’s you. You have a relationship with these waters that no book in this library, or any library, could ever explain.” He closed the book and put it back in it’s place on the shelf. “Is that how you survived the shipwreck? A mer... helped you?”

“Yes,” Hansol breathed, relief filled him with being able to finally say it aloud. He hadn’t dared with Seungcheol, knowing that despite being his closest friend, his reaction would have been nothing but curses of magic and it’s evil. “I need to find him again. It must mean something, right? The book said they’re shy, they avoid humans. Why would one save me?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.” The skin beneath his curved eyes was dark, and again Hansol wondered how long Wonwoo had been up in this tower reading, no doubt trying to distract himself from worrying about Mingyu. “Minghao might be able to help. He knows people.”

“Do you mean people who know more about the mer? From what I gathered from Seungcheol, only magic practicers would have such knowledge.” Hansol responded, surprised. It had been a feat, a dance of words with Seungcheol to get him to talk about magic, about the mer, without revealing Hansol’s true intentions. Wonwoo was logical, liked neat lines, things that made sense. It was an unexpected suggestion, out of either of their comfort zones.

“Minghao would know people, where to find them.” Wonwoo repeated glancing towards the door, as if someone might walk in on them at this time of night. Minghao was a street performer, a favourite of the king’s. He always entered the King’s Hall with his feet over his head, flipping, tumbling, and jumping to the dais at the end of the long room.

Hansol nodded. “Do you know where he is?”  Hansol knew in the past year Minghao had taken to travelling with a group of other performers, visiting other towns and their nobles to entertain all around Molae.

“He’s here now, in Hangu, that’s why I mention him.”

Hansol turned to go, suddenly realizing he had gotten everything the library had to offer. “Thank you, Wonwoo.” He smiled at his friend. “You should get some rest, so you can see Mingyu tomorrow. I’m sure he’s desperate to see you.”

Wonwoo matched Hansol’s smile, a tinge of pink colouring his cheeks. “Of course, your highness. I’ll head to bed soon.” He waved as Hansol opened the door. “Oh, and Prince Hansol, do be careful.”

~⎈~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget to comment what you think:) thanks for reading


	6. Remain Nameless

Hansol woke late the next morning, his body reminding him once again of the ordeal he had been through only days before. _The merboy_ , Hansol thought, as sleep cleared from his mind. He had to find the soft beautiful merboy, Hansol had to hear him sing the song of the sea again.

His rooms in the King’s Keep were spacious and sung of opulence. High ceilings, richly coloured rugs over stone floors so smooth that Hansol could see his reflection. They were, of course, a symbol of status, wealth. Hansol had never cared for them, never spending much time beyond sleep there. He would much rather be out on the water, especially now, wanting to find the merboy.

A chatty serving girl had knocked twice and brought in a medley of fresh fruit, and a rich omelette of shellfish and sharp cheese. Hansol thanked her, welcoming the food the opportunity for kitchen gossip.

“Do you perchance know where the king’s favourite tumbler is?”

The girl didn’t seem phased by the question, smiling eagerly. He was sure she would rush back to the kitchens with a grand tale of how the _prince_ had to talked to her. “Minghao? He’s likely coming tomorrow evening to perform at the feast celebrating your good health, your highness.

Hansol picked up his fork and nodded, dismissing her. She nodded her head and made a rushed exit.

His father had mentioned preparing a feast, welcoming his safe return and the beginning of a new era, one in which Hansol was to step up to his princely duties. Sofia was right, there was so much only his father could teach, things that could only be learned by _doing_. Hansol didn’t want to do any of it though. He _wanted_ to find the merboy, listen to him sing, be with the sea. Sofia could continue learning politics and ruling, she liked it, was better at it than he ever would be. Why was it he who was expecting to inherit the throne, to have the entirety of Molae put upon his shoulders?

Hansol pushed it all aside, kingdoms and lines of succession seemed like small things in comparison to what layout at sea. He needed to find Minghao. Tomorrow would be too long to wait, Hansol needed to find him today. There was an urgency within himself that Hansol didn’t understand, the desire to find the merboy as insistent as waves rolling to shore, there was never going to be an end, not until he found him.

He dressed in common clothes, which he had aplenty from spending most of his time away from the court. Loose breeches, a pale linen shirt and a more fitted one over it. It was easier that way, not to draw attention to himself. His people knew him though, his wavy dark hair and stronger, almost foreign features thanks to his mother’s native land. But the dockland was filled with foreign people, arriving, and leaving, mixing with the locals. It provided a sense of anonymity, and it was part of the appeal to Hansol, it always felt more welcoming than court ever did.

Hansol was unsure of where to find Minghao, perhaps performing on a street corner or still in the bed of some young high-born lord or lady.

He knew the games Minghao liked to play, he had partaken in them a few times when they were younger. Minghao was rather hedonistic, liked indulging in all of life’s pleasures. He said it was more fun that way, you never felt like you were missing out if you just took the chances and gave into the good things. Hansol could see the appeal, though he could never live such a way, he was a prince, there were standards to be met and images to uphold. That, of course, didn’t stop Hansol from indulging himself when away from Molae. It was always so much easier to just be a sailor, rather than a prince.

Hansol donned a light hooded cloak, it’s bottom ghosting along the tops of his thighs. He put the hood up as he left his rooms, he didn’t want to be stopped while leaving the King’s Keep and heading out into the streets of Hangu. His father never approved of him venturing out into the city alone, unescorted.

Hangu was a port city, built with high walls surrounding the edges. Three sides of the city were surrounded by the sea, the harbour front being its entirety. From the edges came the common folk’s homes, mostly dock workers, sailors. Then the business district, shops, and markets filled with almost anything you could desire. After that the homes of rich merchants, the nobles, and finally the highest point of Hangu, the citadel, the castle, the King’s Keep.

Hansol made his way out of the main gate, shuffling along with an emptied produce wagon that had already made its delivery to the royal kitchens. Freedom again, even if he wasn’t at sea, not yet. But over the smell of sweat and fish, shit and fucking, and _city_ , the sea was there, just beyond the walls.

He liked the streets, like the honesty they had, the good and the bad. They were filled to the brim with life, and overflowing as he made his way through the business district. He was jostled as he wove through the loud crowded market, vendors and their customers haggling.

Hansol wasn’t sure where to start looking for Minghao, he hadn’t seen him or his group performing anywhere he had passed. He had paused once, hearing the strumming of strings but it had just been a young girl, alone on the corner, empty bowl in front of her.

It made his chest ache to see the lives of some people, his people, were being forced to live. He had travelled far, had met so many different people, and it had made him painfully conscious of how unfair life could be. He hadn’t been asked to be born a prince, it was just the straw he had drawn in the lottery of life. Hansol knew better than to blame the poor for their poverty, no one wanted such a life. He wasn’t filled with ideas for revolutionary change, a shame Hansol thought, considering whom he had been born. Someone else in his position could offer so much more help, but Hansol just did what he could.

He stopped and listened for a few moments, digging into his pockets, and dropping a few coins in the bowl. Her dirty face had looked up at him with wide, grateful eyes and that was all the thanks Hansol had needed.

He had decided his best bet would be finding Seungcheol. It wasn’t that Seungcheol was prohibited from the King’s Keep, he was Hansol’s closest friend, even if he was a sailor and the son of a fisherman. It was simply that Seungcheol didn’t have to deal with the proceedings of court, and its rules, unlike Hansol, and wasn’t going about to subject himself to it. Seungcheol preferred to stay close to the water, said he could find everything he needed there anyways in Hangu. With that in mind, Hansol went to a familiar tavern, _The Captain's Cabin_ in hopes of finding his friend.

He found Seungcheol starting his morning with black beer and eggs, and a pretty boy in his lap. _Too pretty for a place like this_ , Hansol mused as the boy flipped his long ashy blond hair over his shoulder. _Foreign,_ he noted. He knew many people came to Molae, and Hangu specifically, for a chance at a better life. There was always a need for more sailors, traders, and all the jobs that came from being a booming harbourfront. Hansol was also aware that some of the people who came to Hangu didn’t always find the life they were looking for, instead of finding work where they could.

A boy with a pretty face like that probably hadn’t spent too long before he had turned to using it to make money, selling his body instead. Not that Hansol was unfamiliar with the oldest profession in the world, prostitution was common enough in all cities. Harbourfront taverns like the one they were in were always home to at least one or two, it kept the customers happy. Sailors who went months at sea were always eager to spend some coin when ashore.

Seungcheol was telling the story of their shipwreck to anyone and everyone who would listen. Hansol stood to the side, leaning against a wooden support pillar covered in crude knife carvings, watching. He quickly guessed that was not the first beer of the day for Seungcheol.

“Two massive waves surrounded the _King’s Son_ on either side,” Seungcheol explained, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. “Just these unbelievably huge columns of water, unlike anything I’ve ever seen in my years as a sailor, surrounded us. When I felt, the wind disappears from behind them I _knew_ ,” He paused for effect, a hand snaking between the thighs of the boy on his knee. “That we were goners.”

Hansol stepped forward. “Yet here you are, drinking and whoring still. The sea wasn’t done with us quite yet.”

A broad grin broke out on Seungcheol’s face and the room filled with laughter. “Not done with you, that’s for sure your highness.” He kissed the pretty boy’s cheek and then pushed him up, slapping his backside on the way. “I need to talk to the prince, I’ll see you later.”

The boy let out a laugh and left with nod, a look promising for more later passing between the two.

Hansol shook his head and took the seat across from his friend, and took a sip of his bitter beer. “Do you know where I can find Minghao?”

Seungcheol grabbed back his drink and set it on the table with a thud. “Why do you want to find him? A sudden taste for something more…” He traded in words to make some crude gestures with his hands, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You’re vile.” Hansol responded with a quick laugh. “No, he knows people who may be able to help me.”

The amused, teasing look quickly faded Seungcheol’s face, the laughing storyteller gone. “I told you not go messing around with magic, Hansol. It’s bad stuff. Everything comes a cost, sometimes you don’t see it till later and then you can’t undo the damage.”

Hansol had already heard this speech from his friend the day before, and countless times before that over the years. He rolled his eyes. “Have you seen Minghao or not?”

“He’s in the city square.” Seungcheol frowned at him, the bandage of his head restricting the movement. It looked as if it had been changed, and Hansol was sure it hadn’t been Seungcheol’s own idea, things like that didn’t cross his mind.

“Thank you.” Hansol sighed, getting up and heading for the door.

He found Minghao quickly after that. It was easy to spot the crowd that had gathered to watch. He stopped and joined them, still amazed after all these years, after travelling so far, what Minghao was capable of. All long slender limbs and grace as he moved across the cobblestones and into the air.

There was a handful of musicians around the fountain at the centre of the square, strumming and drumming away. It was upbeat and lively, the crowd tapping feet and bobbing heads along. A young girl was leaping across the stone, ribbon tied to her limbs, swirling in the air as she moved. It reminded Hansol of seaweed in the water, smooth and graceful. She wove between the other performers, three boys, including Minghao, cartwheeling in eerie unison. It was an incredibly aesthetically pleasing sight, Hansol found himself captivated by the colours of the ribbons as they swam past the boys. When they hit the edge of the crowd, they stopped, popping straight up into the air before heading right back to the centre, some tumbling on the ground, some diving back in hands to the ground, feet up in the air.

After the performance had ended, the crowd roared with cheers and clapping. The young girl with the ribbons was making her way through the crowd with a hat, and Hansol found himself digging into his pocket for coin for the second time that day. She smiled when he dropped it in. Hansol figured coin was made to be spent, and there were far worse ways.

He made his way the fountain were the performers were drinking, recovering after their performance. Minghao saw him and waved, friendly, but unsure. He rarely saw Hansol anymore, too often being out at sea. Minghao saw him even less often outside of the King’s Keep.

Hansol pulled the other boy aside. “I need your help.”

Minghao had flashed him a quick smile, all teeth. “What can I do to help you, your highness?” He took another sip of water from his flask. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you until tomorrow night, for your feast.”

Hansol held back a groan. The last thing he wanted a feast, especially one that was meant to signify him properly taking over as heir.

“Do you, or anyone in your group, know where I would find a magic user?” He asked, not bothering for delicacy. “Here in the city?”

Minghao’s round eyes widen and he took a half step back, looking around them. “Your highness, I don’t think you should-”

Hansol had heard enough warnings from Seungcheol, he didn’t want to hear another. “Minghao, do you know or not?” He asked, exasperated.

Minghao nodded slowly, brows furrowed. “There’s a woman, a _witch_ , not far from the shipyard. Jun, another performer, goes there for _special_ supplies for some of our shows. Things beyond tricks and flashes of smoke...I’ve gone with him a few times.”

“Where do I find her?”

Minghao shook his head, a foul look on his narrow face. “It’s on the north side. The only one facing the water with a green door. You can’t miss it.”

Hansol nodded, mind whirling. “Thanks, Minghao. I mean it.”

“Your highness,” Minghao began, reaching a hand onto Hansol’s shoulder. “There are pretenders and fools aplenty, trust me, _I know_. She isn’t it one.” He paused, looked Hansol in the eye. “Be careful what you go seeking.”

~⎈~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol shit actually happens in the next chapter, keep holding on pals
> 
> thanks for reading don't forget to comment :)  
> also fun irrelevant fact that isn't going to come into play at all during this story, jeonghan is also a mer and on land bc of seungcheol for one reason or another lol yes i thought about it


	7. Shades of Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i didn't die, i've been super busy with life, but thanks for sticking around if you're reading this

Hansol crept along the edge of the cold stone wall, the hours of the sun’s heat long forgotten. He pulled the rough woollen cloak down further, covering his face as he passed a pair of drunkards stumbling and hanging onto each other. Hansol doubted they would remember seeing their prince in the morning if they remembered anything at all. The possibility of anyone believing such a tale, seeing the crown prince unattended in the docklands during the witching hour was unlikely.

Hansol had made the briefest of appearances at the feast his father had prepared in his honour earlier. A feast welcoming in a new age for the kingdom of Molae, one with Hansol stepping up to his role of crown prince properly for the first time. To shadow and learn to rule properly like he never had. To prepare for his future as king.

He didn’t want to be king though. If Hansol was being honest, he never had. He had understood from an early age that he was set to inherit the throne, but he had always been more interested in learning to sail. He belonged to the sea, he always had. _Fuck the monarchy_ , Hansol had decided. It was time to take his destiny into his own hands, his fate belonged at the bottom of the sea, and he was going to do everything possible to seek it out.

He had eaten the first four courses, fresh greens and nuts, seaweed and clam soup, lightly toasted sourdough covered in butter and herbs, and salmon baked with lemon and dill. He was full enough after those first four, anything after that would have been overindulging, something that Hansol had never learned properly in all his years of being a prince.

Between the courses of food and pleasantries with various nobility and important officials of Molae, Hansol had kept the image of the merboy in his head. He was going to find him, no matter what it took.

He had feigned illness.

“You’re not ill,” Sofia had whispered, catching him by the tall doors to the massive dining hall as he was leaving after excusing himself to his parents. It was a statement, not a question.

Hansol had shrugged at his sister then pulled her in for a quick hug, squeezing her small frame into him.

She had looked like true royalty, though she always did, even in common clothes. Sofia had a way of holding her head, a way of moving, he mannerisms elegant and regal. Tonight, though she had donned a gown of green silk, tied at her waist, and flowing down loosely as she moved. Her hair was once again in an elaborate braid and a string of pearls hung heavy from her slender neck. She looked like a queen.

“I love you,” Hansol had said softly into her hair. He could feel many sets of eyes watching them, but he was past caring. None of it would matter after tonight.

Sofia had let of a confused laugh. “I love you too. It goes without saying, though, I don’t remember the last time we actually said it to each other.”

“I know,” Hansol said pulling away, setting his hands on her shoulders. “That’s why I said it. I don’t want you to forget that no matter what happens, I love you, okay?”

“Okay,” Sofia nodded, her straight brows furrowing in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“Fate,” Hansol had smiled, letting her go and taking a step towards the door, “destiny, maybe. I don’t know, but this is something I have to do.”

Sofia looked at him for a long moment as he moved closer to the door. Her frown faded into a small cautious smile. “May the sea carry you safely; may it carry you swiftly.”

Hansol had flashed a grin as he slipped between the large doors. He knew Sofia would understand in her own way. She would never stop him from following his heart, not even if it meant throwing duty out the window.

He hadn’t packed a bag, figuring there was no point if he got what he was looking for. Instead he traded his fine feast garments into common clothes and a heavy cloak. Then, Hansol had headed for the docklands.

He could tell he was getting close, scanning the line of houses for the sole one with a door of green. When he finally found it, it looked like every other along the waterfront, weather worn, and sun faded. These were the homes of dock workers and sailor’s wives, hard working people who relied on the sea for life just as Hansol did. The only thing that set this collection of aged stone apart from the others was the door. It stood proudly, painted a bright shade of sea green, clear in the moonlight.

Hansol knocked twice.

“Who goes there?” A gravelly voice called through the painted wood.

“Hansol.” He replied, suddenly unsure of all of this. “I’m in need of answers.” Then, “ _Magic_.”

The green door crawled open a crack. A woman’s face peered through, aged, and corroded like a cliffside, worn by the ever crashing of waves. She looked at Hansol with a small, rheumy eye, the same shade of green as the door. Where the door was just painted mundane wood, her eyes held something _more._

“Do you have a means of payment, for such a thing?” She croaked.

The bag of gold coins felt heavy in Hansol’s pocket as he nodded.

“Very well then,” she said opening the door further. “You may come in.”

Hansol stepped through the door and jumped as it slammed behind him, as if caught if a sudden gust of wind. He realized though, taking another step, that he had felt no wind this dark night.

The house was small and dimly lit, a lone candlestick sat on the centre of a worn wooden table that took up almost half the room. Two walls were lined with shelves, dipping under the weight of it’s contents. Various bottles, jars, and boxes of every shape and size littered the shelves, squished together haphazardly.

Hansol eyed the contents of some of the jars. Frogs, unlike any he had ever see before in his travels with three eyes floated suspended in a strange orange tinted liquid. Next to them grew sea cucumbers, fat and very much alive.

He scanned the labels on some of the boxes warily. Dried thumbs, horse hoof, and - Hansol paused, _mer hair_.

“What do you seek, boy?” The woman; the _witch_ , asked finally. She was a small thing, Hansol could see her fully now, half his size, but he could _feel_ the power radiating off her.

“The mer,” Hansol began, glancing towards the box he had read. “How would one find them?”

The witch let out a high, sharp cackle. “I would start with going into the sea, wouldn’t you?”

He nodded slowly, the magic in the room humming around him.

“But of course, nothing is as easy as that. The mer are shy creatures, they avoid humans at almost all costs.” She told him, echoing the text Wonwoo had read him. “But _you,_ you’ve seen one. Known one?”

“Yes,” Hansol admitted. “I need to find him.”

The witch’s thin lips curled into a dark smile, revealing small crooked yellow teeth. “There is a way.” She said. “But my price is not a small one.”

“Price is not an issue,” he reached into his cloak and tossed the heavy bag of coins on to the table.

The witch shook her head. “The price is greater yet, boy.” She took a step towards him and Hansol shied back. She pointed a long bony finger, nail yellowed and thin, to his face. “The charms of a prince are a powerful thing indeed.”

“ _Charms_? What do you mean?” Hansol whispered, confused. He reached a hand to his neck, his face, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. “You want my looks? To change my face?”

“To find the mer, you need to become a mer.” She replied with a smile that sent a shiver through Hansol’s spine. “Such magic requires a powerful source. Are you sure you want to pay such a price? To go through such a change?”

Hansol stared at her, eyes wide. He knew he was handsome, he had heard it enough, but he had never thought of his looks as anything exceptional. Hansol had come so far, to find the merboy. He needed to see him, nothing mattered anymore besides that. But his _face_? How would the merboy recognize him? How would he stay long enough for Hansol to tell him how much he had come to mean to him, that maybe he too, was a creature of the sea?

“There is no other way?”

“None.”

Hansol took a deep breath, the magic in the room palpable, heavy, and sweet in his lungs. He was more than his looks. He would still be himself, albeit a different face and a tail. Minghao’s words of caution and Seungcheol’s calling of _no_ , echoed in the back of his mind. His inexplicable desire to find the beautiful merboy outweighed everything else. “Very well then. Take them.”

The witch grinned, and moved towards the far shelf. She began digging through the bottles, the clinking of glass on glass filling the room.

Then, she began pouring and tossing in the contents from her shelves into the large pot hanging in her fireplace. With each thing she added, bursts of colourful smoke rose the chimney, some pouring out into the room as well.

Hansol watched, mouth hanging open half curious, half horrified. What had he done? This was _magic,_ the true, powerful stuff. No tricks or games. How could he be so sure of such a change at such a price, built on nothing but the feeling in his gut? It mattered not, there was no going back now.

The witch began to mutter under her breath as she slowly added a long strand of hair from the box Hansol had noticed earlier, _mer hair._ With that, a final cloud of smoke rose from the pot, first white, then sea green, the same green as the door and witch’s eyes and the door. It swirled about the room, heading towards Hansol with intent, and snaking its way around his ankles, coiling itself up and around him.

“Legs for a tail, legs for a tail,” the witch chanted from beside the pot, hands moving through the smoke that continued to pour from it. “Charms for a tail, charms for tail,” she continued, as the green smoke curled its way around his neck.

He stood frozen, there was no going back. His heart pounded in his chest loudly, it seemed to be the only thing that seemed familiar to Hansol, everything else he had known gone. This was _magic._

“The prince will pay the price, take what you must, take what you must,” the witch was laughing hysterically.

The smoke pouring from the pot now black, the colour creeping slowly until it was all dark. It was still moving, had moved from his neck, and was coming for his mouth. There was nothing he could do. He had made his choice.

“He has paid, make the change!” She finished, the black smoke plunging into Hansol’s open mouth like a predator attacking.

The room spun. Hansol could feel the magic, hot and heavy, coursing through his veins. It burned from the inside out, and Hansol wondered if he had been tricked, that he instead would be left to cook to death from within. His feet felt as if they had turned to lead, refusing to move as he tried to step to the door.

“You better move faster than that, princey,” The witch cackled, a distant voice as Hansol’s body fought the magic, the change. “You won’t find any mer if you’re stuck on shore with a tail.”

Hansol tried to move to the door, desperately urging his body to _move._ Everything hurt, burned. He needed water.

Somehow Hansol managed to make it the door, to fling it open enough to push himself through. The night air had seemed cool to him earlier when he had left the King’s Keep, but now he found no solace and continued to feel the fire within him grow.

He was right on the waterfront, in the heart of the docklands. Hansol could see where the edge of the street dropped into the sea. He could make it. He had to make it.

His body fought the magic, and fought each step. The water was so close, but his legs were becoming heavier and heavier with each step, and starting to come together and stick at the thigh. Beneath the burning he could feel the itch, _he was changing_.

Then, with a final leaden step, Hansol fell into the sea.

~⎈~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! don't forget to comment/ reaffirm my self conscious ass
> 
> we see seungkwan in next chapter again!!!!!


	8. Going Under

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have been so busy i am so sorry and i know how much everyone needs to know what's going to happen (bitch me too) so i basically forced myself to sit down (its rainy today and i'm home) and write more so things can keep going so this quite my normal quality but oh well
> 
> but yeah! magic! merpeople!

Hansol had fallen into the sea many times over the years.

As a child, he had always been a bit too curious, a bit too eager. Leaning down and looking into the clear water at the wonders within, then a bit too far, and _splash!_ His nanny had always run to his side, cursing of him drowning, but he had always reemerged with a grin. Hansol had always been a good swimmer, even from the start. As he grew older falling into the sea had turned more into a drunken trip and stumble, usually with Mingyu or Seungcheol in tow, and Wonwoo look disapprovingly from the shore.s

Hansol had never fallen into the sea like this.

Gone was the comfort of knowing what lay ahead of him, he was falling blindly into the unknown.

The water was as cold as Hansol was hot. His body burned as skin came together, his legs an unbearable searing heat as they fused together. Hansol cried out in pain, letting out the last of his air in a stream of bubbles heading for the moonlit surface. He inhaled sharply, water crashing into his lungs as he had never allowed before. It too burned, a fire in his chest. He could breathe though, he exhaled and inhaled again as the magic transformation completed. He wasn’t drowning, no – his body had been changed to accept the water like a mer’s, but each breath still scorched his chest.

When he rose to the surface he was still below the docks. Hansol knew he couldn’t stay here, it wouldn’t be safe, someone might spot him, and he didn’t want to consider what would happen. Besides, what Hansol desired couldn’t be found here. He had to go out into the sea to find what he was after. Hansol smiled at the thought of how much closer he was to finding the merboy. Hansol had given up so much, all for him.

He _had_ given up so much, Hansol was still in disbelief of it all. He leaned back and raised his tail to the surface. It shone a magnificent green under the moonlight. His fins were a deeper shade, long and strong. They flopped lazily atop the moonlit water. Hansol stared at it in awe, his smile growing. It was amazing, all of it was. Completely, and utterly impossibly amazing.

He dove beneath the water again. He had muscles he hadn’t before, his tail propelled him through the water in ways Hansol had never thought were possible. Hansol was fast, he as graceful and he was in absolute awe of the wonders below the surface. He had always loved the sea, but he had never seen it like this and found himself falling even more in love. Schools of small pale-yellow fish wove between dancing clusters of seaweed reaching for the surface. The seafloor was littered with treasures between the sand and the rocks, the harbourfront above marking it with a human touch.

Hansol paused, breathing in and out, closing his eyes at the burn. He could tolerate it, it was like having sprinted a far distance and needing air but not being able to stop, only slow down slightly. Hansol would bear the pain, learn to work around it. He had to.

He reached into the sandy seafloor at something that shone among the darkness, catching the dim moonlight. He dug at it, pulling out a thin chain encrusted with gems. Perhaps some highborn lady had lost such a piece, it looked to be a costly thing. Or maybe some trader had bumped trunks and lost it over the side. It was beautiful and though a light thing, floating in the water, it felt heavy in Hansol’s hand. _Heavy with magic,_ Hansol realized suddenly. He wondered if everything had always been so laden with magic and he had never realized it until now.

He swam to the surface with the belt, desperate for air. It was a magic thing, that was for certain, but Hansol felt sure he wasn’t meant to have it. He swam between docked ships, heading down to the small beach where the common folk swam on hot summer days. He swam into the shallow water and dropped the belt. Someone else would find it, someone who’s destiny was intertwined with it, Hansol had done his part. He had enough magic of his own to sort out, and somehow, he knew this wasn’t part of his path. It was time for Hansol to continue on his own path now.

As he swam, the lights of Hangu fading behind him, Hansol remembered something. He had a tail now, but what about _his face?_ He reached a hand, now slightly webbed between the fingers, and covered in small green scales below his pointer finger and thumb. His face _felt_ the same, but Hansol wasn’t sure how well he actually knew how it normally felt.

He stopped and let the dark sea water around him calm. The moonlight was bright, bright enough for Hansol to look down at the smooth water and see a reflection. It wasn’t a stranger, it was still _him_ he found looking up at him. But he _was_ different. Part of the change was the mer attributes, his ears now fanned out with three cartilage ridges. His shoulders were also dusted with scales and so was his lower back where his torso faded into a tail.

His face was changed though, his nose was rounded, and his brow bone lowered and his chin narrowed. But he was still clearly _Hansol,_ the same eyes, the same smile. He did look different, only perhaps Seungcheol or Sofia would be able to tell it was him. He was no longer Hansol, Prince of Molae – now he was just a merboy looking for another, chasing the song of the sea.

When Hansol had swum what he deemed far enough, he stopped along one of the small islands that filled Molae’s coastline. He was tired, the sun would rise in a few hours and the change had taken the last of his energy.

Hansol found a small alcove made of stone along the shoreline. He pulled himself out of the water and laid his head down on the stone. It wasn’t that bad, Hansol mused. There was a soft layer of moss and he was sheltered from the wind. What was bad was that though he had paid the price of his looks for a tail, he also couldn’t breathe beneath the water like the mer. Each breath still burned with the pain and magic of the initial change. Seungcheol had been right, there was always unseen costs. Hansol wasn’t sure why he was surprised, the witch had not seemed to be the kind to deal in the honourable sort of magic.

The waves lapped against the rocks, lulling Hansol to sleep. His mind was messy with thoughts, all streaming together. Tomorrow he would begin the task of finding the merboy who had saved him. Though Hansol too had a tail now, he also knew the sea was a big place filled with as many dangers as wonders. He would have to be careful. He didn’t dare consider what Sofia would do to him if he managed to get hurt – Hansol sat up.

_Sofia._

He had left her in Hangu, ashore. Hansol suddenly felt sick. He had left his little sister and the rest of his life behind. He looked down at his tail. There was no going back, he realized. The magic had been done, he had been changed. He had traded his _whole life_ for some chance at _possibly_ finding some merboy.

Hansol now realized his folly. He had been a fool, giving up everything he knew and loved for someone he didn’t even know. Hansol shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. What if he couldn’t find the merboy? What if he did find him and then found there was no special reason he had saved Hansol? What if he didn’t want to even talk to Hansol, let alone sing for him. _What if he had lost everything for nothing?_

He laid back down onto his moss and stone bed. Hansol had made his choices, he had bet it all on the merboy. It left him with only one choice, to find the merboy and answers.

~⎈~

Hansol woke with waves kissing his chest. The sound of gulls filled the air and his stomach grumbled as he sat up. He would need to find something to eat. Not an impossible task, the sea was filled with things a plenty to eat, but Hansol had never had to find anything from beneath the water.

He slid into the water some more, wetting his dried hair. He wondered if mer typically slept below the water, _probably,_ he figured, it would be safer.

He dove beneath the surface of the water, embracing the welcoming comfort of it all. It felt so good like the sea knew him and wanted he was coming home. It was all even more beautiful under the sunlight, Hansol could see more than he could have imagined. It was all impossibly colourful, creatures and plants, and _life_ all the more wonderful than he could have ever considered from a ship.

He spotted the familiar sight of a mussel along the seafloor. _Food,_ Hansol smiled, diving deeper to grab it. His lungs burned as he inhaled, heading for the surface.

Hansol swam to a lone rock that rose from the water. He hit the shell against the stone hard. Nothing. Hansol sighed, frowning. He hit it repeatedly, trying to open it. He had always had forks and other tools to open shellfish before, how did mer and other creatures open them?

He huffed in frustration, setting it aside from the rock and diving back down, looking for more. He would need more than one to fill his stomach, Hansol reasoned. He might as well gather them now and figure out a way to open them later.

He spent an hour collecting mussels, finding himself enjoying the task. It was almost a game, and he found the time passing quickly.

When he rose to the surface again the sun was high in the sky and a gull was pecking at Hansol’s pile of collected mussels.

Hansol opened his mouth to shout at it and shoo it away, instead out came _nothing._ His hands went to his throat. _His voice,_ it was _gone._

He waved at the seagull instead, it flying away with a squawk.

His voice was gone along with his legs and the rest of his life. Another catch he hadn’t seen, another trick woven into the magic. Seungcheol would be laughing at him.

“Do you need help?” A soft, but amused voice asked from behind him.

Hansol spun around, startled but awkward, his tail forgetting to move with him.

Round cheeks, golden skin, kind eyes, red hair - _it was the merboy_. The one Hansol was looking for, who he had given up so much to find, swimming up behind him and _teasing_ him.

Hansol’s nervous frown was quickly replaced by a smile and eager nodding. The sea was impossibly large, and somehow the merboy he had set out to find, had risked it all for without thinking, was somehow _here_. It seemed impossible, too easy. This merboy had to be entwined with Hansol’s destiny, there was no other explanation.

He let out a relieved sigh.

Now that he had found the merboy Hansol wasn’t quite sure what to do, he hadn’t really thought that far, just assuming everything would fall into place once he finally somehow _found_ him. Hansol had a million questions, countless things to say and share, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.

The merboy pulled himself up easily onto the rocks, his tail hanging heavy into the water next to Hansol. It was a soft rose colour and long, almost twice the size of the merboy’s upper half which formed soft rolls as he reached for a mussel from Hansol’s collection pile.

“Do they not have mussels where you’re from?” He asked, hitting it hard against the rock, opening it easily. “And before you say anything, I can tell you’re not from here because of how skinny you are. It’s almost summer so it’s not too bad now, but you still shouldn’t go too deep, it stays cold there regardless of the season.” He held out the mussel to Hansol.

Hansol took it gratefully and began to eat. It wasn’t how he was used to them, but Hansol had eaten all sorts of things when aboard, he had learned to appreciate what he was offered.

“Though, I probably don’t need to tell you that, everyone knows better than to go too deep.” The merboy continued, grabbing another mussel from Hansol’s pile. “Where are you from? If you don’t mind me asking. You’re not from the waters south from here, you’re too pale, but you are skinny enough.”

Hansol opened his mouth to reply, too many things to say, but nothing came out. He pointed to his throat and opened his mouth, his brows furrowed with frustration, with sadness.

The merboy’s dark eyes widened, and he froze, a mussel suspended halfway to his mouth. “Oh,” he breathed, “you can’t talk?”

Hansol shook his head, his dark hair had dried in the hot midday sun and tickled his face.

“Why?” The merboy asked.

Hansol hadn’t anticipated that question. He had expected maybe pity or maybe even mistrust, the merboy being suspicious of a disfigured stranger, not from these waters who also happened to be mute.

Hansol wanted, to tell the truth, he just didn’t know _how._

“My name is Seungkwan by the way,” he said pushing himself off the rocks and plopping into the water next to Hansol. “But I guess you can’t tell me your name, can you?”

Hansol shook his head again. He hadn’t thought of that. The witch had made everything so much harder for him, nearly impossible. Maybe Seungcheol’s warnings had held some truth in them, everything does come at cost and Hansol hadn’t seen this one coming.

“I could guess your name,” Seungkwan suggested, giving Hansol a bright smile as he floated on his back, fins flirting with the top of the water. “Is it...wait! Is it foreign?”

Hansol wasn’t sure what would be considered foreign to a mer, albeit one that lives in the waters surrounding his father’s kingdom. What was local and what wasn’t to mer? Where were boundaries drawn in the water? Did mer stay in one smaller area, or were they sojourners that moved about? Hansol just had more and more questions that he couldn’t ask.

He shrugged instead.

“That’s not very helpful,” Seungkwan rolled his eyes. “How about I just call you Smiles until we can figure out some other way for you to tell me?”

Hansol grinned.

“See? The name fits you, Smiles.”

“Are you here by yourself?” Seungkwan asked after a moment, and Hansol could tell by the way he asked that mers seldom alone for too long.

He nodded.

“Are you here to stay?”

He shrugged. He wasn’t sure if he was or not, he hadn’t really considered it. Hansol had just wanted to find the mer who had saved him, and he _had,_ but Seungkwan just gave him more questions than answers.

Seungkwan offered a small smile. “You can stay with me then! I don’t mind, I can show you good fishing areas and good sunbathing spots. Oh, I can even show you a ship! One sunk only a few days ago and I -” he paused as if suddenly remembering that Hansol was a stranger he had just met.

But Hansol wanted Seungkwan to continue, he was desperate to hear the other’s side of things. He wanted to know _why_ Seungkwan had saved him from the wreck, though of course, Seungkwan didn’t know it was _he_ who he had saved.

“I saw the wreck,” Seungkwan said after a moment too long, “it was an amazing sight.”

Hansol gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

“I should be getting back to my friends, Seokmin and Soonyoung always manage to get into trouble when I’m away for too long,” Seungkwan said instead. “Would you like to come? It might do them good to have someone else to try to mediate their madness.”

Hansol was unsure of the ways of the mer, how they lived and what was normal. The books he had read with Wonwoo in the King’s Keep had only a land dweller’s knowledge. He was on his own to figure out the rest, to find his own way now.

He just smiled at Seungkwan and nodded.

 

~⎈~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget to comment it helps guilt me into writing faster lol

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/checkinsbitch/)


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